


Bonfire

by DennisCrumb



Category: Split (2016)
Genre: Eventual Smut, With a little sad times, crack and more crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 09:24:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12578624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DennisCrumb/pseuds/DennisCrumb
Summary: Written for ao3 user LizRenKnight who asked me to write something for her two original characters Elizabeth and Molly. Part one of two. Enjoy and Happy Halloween!





	Bonfire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LizRenKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizRenKnight/gifts).



A documentary on Kevin Wendell Crumb plays, muted, on a small television screen in an otherwise dark bedroom. Clothing splays haphazardly across the floor and out of drawers, music blares loudly to quiet the sound of traffic and dogs barking, make-up smeared across the home's sole occupants mirror. Searching for the right color to wear tonight. The _exact_ color. 

Sighing, Elizabeth pulls the long dark colored wig off the plastic head sat on her dresser and over her capped head, straightening it out and running her fingers through the dark tresses. She grins satisfactory at the finished results.

It had taken hours to find everything, looking inside every store and stalking on forums and searching on numerous sites all for the perfect event.

Although Elizabeth had graduated high school a year ago some of the crowd she still hangs out with were in their last year. Everyone was going to be at the annual Halloween bonfire thrown every year a week before devil's night, passed down to whoever was thought to be worthy to host such a crazy night.

Her phone lights up and shakes atop the console and she fights back a sigh as she sees who the caller is. She swipes to answer and puts it on speaker.

"Hey, mom," Elizabeth cheerfully greets despite the tenseness already churning.

"Elizabeth, where are you?" her mom answers, upset. "We just stopped at the store before going home and thought we'd swing by your place to invite you over but you weren't there."

"I'm heading to a party with a few friends."

"A party?" her mother says with a slight gasp. "This close to Halloween? You know how dangerous that is! I'm already seeing accidents and murders on the news." Her mother speaks in a frantic rush before pausing and then, "me and your father wish to know where this party will be taking place?" her mother says.

Shoulders heaving in a silent sigh, Elizabeth plasters on a fake smile as she observes her reflection in the mirror. "Mom, I'm nineteen and I love you and dad but I am totally capable of taking care of myself. You have to give me room to breathe."

"Just last year we never thought you'd breathe again." Her mother's breath hitches and Elizabeth's hand moves unconsciously over her scarred throat covered up by the scarf.

"Well, I'm fine," she swallows thickly. 

"No you're not," her mother responds with conviction. "Are you dating again? You get so reckless- downright foolish whenever you meet someone and I think you need to focus more on your priorities and your future!"

 _I don't have a future_ , she thinks bleakly. "Mom. I'm not dating anyone." _Just casually seeing._

"Elizabeth," her mother's voice wavers worriedly. "You've always felt everything so strongly and yet you choose the most poisonous, heartless people to latch onto. And I'm afraid because...because one day it's going to break you."

Her mother quickly hangs up and Elizabeth exhales shakily, blinking the tears from her eyes. "Better to feel something than nothing at all," she murmurs to herself and cranks up the radio.

Elizabeth had come from a loving home with doting parents with wide smiles and even wider ambitions for their daughter. Successful job, a nice house, and a husband and kids no later than when she hit thirty. They were going to be a happy family with a happy family down the line and so forth and so forth...

But somewhere down the road of parenting help books and you-can-do-anything speeches something had happened down that bright, smooth freshly paved line surrounded by a white picket fence. Something had happened to her. Elizabeth had a terrible habit of attracting bad company. It hadn't mattered how good the neighborhood was or the number of police cars cruising down the street, she'd sought those people out- not consciously or willingly, of course. She was a trouble magnet with big blue submissive eyes and a welcoming smile; even moreso when it came to her love life. And a few monstrous, abusive boyfriends down the line coupled with her people pleasing attitude that road crumbled, leaving cracks and holes for all to see. Even then people still used her, riding along for the ride with simultaneous predatory leers and declarations of love. Until her last boyfriend had cracked her for good, leaving Elizabeth with a nasty scar on her neck as a parting gift.

She must not have much fight in her or esteem with how easily she's picked herself up from that relationship- or maybe she has all of the hardness in the world. But it's been paved over so many times not even she can tell the difference. Maybe that road is still crumbling beneath the surface, ready to send her down into that darkness for good.

Travelling down the road for another half hour, she eventually spots what she's looking for.

Elizabeth spots some of her friend's cars in a dark parking lot in front of an old, boarded up strip mall. She swings her jeep to the left and parks it a little further away from the others, not wanting any scratches or dents in case someone got behind the wheel a little too wasted. Not everyone could hold their liquor like her.

Stepping out of the jeep, Elizabeth pulls the invite slip from her bra and opens it up. On the front of the paper is the time and date of this bonfire extravaganza, on the back is a map carelessly drawn in photoshop or some shit and slapped down crookedly on the page. A big X marks the spot at the top corner page.

"All right," she sighs and starts walking.

It's then that she sees the signs with arrows either sticking in the ground with tiny, plastic spears or taped to the trees. She follows them, picking up the pace and several minutes later she begins to hear voices and see the soft orange glow of a fire.

Over two dozen or more people have already arrived, mingling or setting up tables and mixing drinks. Someone is playing a song that's barely loud enough to hear but is good enough before the sound guys arrive.

The bonfire was deep enough in the woods that the cops couldn't break up the party- or, at least anytime soon.

"Seriously? Out of all the costumes you had to go with that Liz?" a muffled voice says disapprovingly.

Elizabeth stares blankly at the guy in the Panda suit.

"That is so tasteless," he continues with an unamused tone, throwing his paws in the air.

Elizabeth rolls her eyes and snorts. "Like your panda suit isn't? Those things are going extinct you know," she mock pouts.

Panda Boy pulls her to the side and after several moments of struggling with no assistance from her he pulls off his head. "Better than going as some dead girl!" Rob harshly responds under his breath, looking back at the offended and glaring faces fixating on them.

"Better to be a dead girl which was almost me last year at the hands of a lowlife boyfriend who thought _I_ was worthless," she smirks bitterly. "And I got less memorable news coverage for that trouble," she jokes poorly. She'd rather have died than have her face plastered all over the news, dead at eighteen by the hands of some wannabe rockstar in a mediocre local band.

Rob looks away at her words, awkwardly shifting on his feet.  That's how it always went- either her friends or family ignored that gruesome period in her life or smother her to the point of suffocation like her parents.

Elizabeth stares down at her costume. "Look, it took me forever to find the exact replica of Marcia's costume! Down to the jewelry! I am _not_ taking it off. Plus, the guts were really hard to do."

The guts she's speaking of are currently spilling out of her stomach. It had taken forever to replicate and even longer to stick to her skin.

Rob huffs out angrily. "Whatever. I don't have time for this, I'm going to go get drunk. Don't call for me if someone else decides to tell you the same thing in a much less nicer way."

"Whatever," she mockingly responds.

Elizabeth wanders over to the punch bowl which is sat upon a rickety fold-up table and grabs a red cup, filling it to the brin with blood red punch and chunks of pineapple bits.

She hums as the sweet, tangy liquid hits her taste buds just right, the familiar, subtle burn down her throat that only someone whose had spiked punch as much as she has knows it.

As the sunset fades away the air becomes cooler and more party goers start to show up with more supplies and music. Light and fun chatter melts away her tense muscles and she waves to a red head by the only truck on the grounds, helping setting up the sound system.

"Finally," she mumbles to herself, jogging over.

 

#

 

An hour into the party of drunk shouting and grinding bodies and various games in play, Elizabeth cases out three guys while also subtly watching her current boy-toy and one of the main hosts for the party. Casual fuck buddies were safer - in her mind -than anything serious. Her therapist thinks this is a problem, Elizabeth thinks nothing can replace a warm body so she'll deal with the fallout later.

That's when Elizabeth sees her.

Well, more like everyone sees her.

There's a girl over by the punch bowl in a glowing white dress not meant for a shindig like this one. She's a small, skinny thing too, but the style of her hair and make-up is _that_ skilled and the dress so iconic you'll still notice it as Marilyn Monroe. But that's not what gets everyone's attention- it's the big lug of a jock in front of her holding an empty cup of red punch, it's contents splattered all over the girls dress that does it.

When no one makes to move Elizabeth shakes her head with a tired huff and stalks over, pushing onlookers and their recording phones out of the way.

The saddest, biggest blue eyes look back at her, the girl hunches over self consciously, shaking hands swiping at her dress pointlessly.

"Honey, you may not have the curves of Ms. Monroe but you are definitely all woman," Elizabeth grins.

The blonde blushes furiously and Elizabeth throws her head back, laughing loudly and unashamedly.

"I don't think I've ever seen you before. What's your name?" Elizabeth persists despite her meek silence.

The blonde's pallor fades back to her original color and her blue eyes widen and shift, as if she's forgotten in her nervousness. "Moll...Molly," she eventually squeaks.

Baring her teeth in a predatory gesture as she shoulders the big, ugly oaf away from Molly with a glare. She throws an arm around the smaller girl. "Well, Molly, looks like these dead weights don't know how to treat a gal. Looks like you're hanging with me now for tonight. That cool with you?"

Molly blushes again, wrapping her arms around her middle protectively. "Oh, I...I'm not- but that's cool if you are, I mean..." she closes her blue tinted lids with a frustrating, embarrassing huff. "I'd love to hang out with you," she finishes, her smile somber and incredibly shy.

Elizabeth watches her amusedly, feeling warm at her innocence. She was wondering what a nice girl like her was doing at a party like this and almost asked, but it was such a cliche line and the girl doesn't look like she can survive any more terrible one liners tonight; no matter the gender.

"Eh. Okay," Elizabeth shrugs one shoulder, nudging the other one that's around Molly for them to start walking.

Elizabeth hears Molly sniffle as they head over to the row of logs sat around the fire. She doesn't turn to look at her, allowing her some privacy in a crowd full of drunk assholes.

"I can't believe I chose to wear this. It was stupid anyway," Molly murmurs.

" _Nonsense_. You look great- looked. Um, well, you still do even drenched in punch."

Molly smirks bitterly and smooths her dirty dress down before sitting on one of the logs. "I know that at least..."

Elizabeth chuckles while taking a seat next to her.

"It's just I don't really have the confidence to feel like it all the time. And," she rolls her red rimmed eyes, wipes them hastily before they can ruin her mascara, "white really isn't suitable for a bonfire."

Elizabeth hisses between her teeth sympathetically. "No. No, not really hon." She snaps her fingers with a small 'aha' and reaches into her bag. "I do have this though..." she song-songs as she brings her giant purse around to rummage inside. "More of a back-up for myself but I'm partial to this scarf and my costume has yet to run into any accidents."

Molly's red lips part in surprise and she shakes her head minutely. "Oh, no- I couldn't! It's yours."

"It's totally not a big deal babe. Trust. If some asshole spills something on me I'd simply demand he strip and voila! New costume!" she grins rakishly as she takes out the folded clothes from her bag and settles them on her lap.

A startled laugh escapes Molly at her words, in the little time she's ran into and having conversed with Elizabeth she can confidently say she's never met such a character. She watches curiously as Elizabeth unfolds the sweater in front of her and inspects it front to back for any markings or stains.

"So," Molly smiles warmly at Elizabeth although her attention is on the sweater, "who am I going as?"

Nodding satisfyingly at the pristine light colored sweater, Elizabeth's gaze slides to Molly's for a second before she drops the sweater. "Claire."

Molly frowns thoughtfully. "Claire?"

"Yep," Molly comments, popping the 'p' and picking up the skirt. "The Claire to my Marcia. Victims of The Horde."

Molly blinks repeatedly, mouth falling open comically as she stares at Elizabeth. "I thought I recognized that outfit but I didn't want to say anything!" Molly had been watching the news non-stop when that first story broke out, being left home alone more often than not has had her extremely paranoid. She probably knows more about the case than any other teenager their- besides maybe Elizabeth if she's had the gusto to dress up as one of the victims. Only fanatics did that.

Elizabeth hums a pleased little noise in her throat. "You're one of the sacred few then. And you didn't call me a heartless bitch for it, I'm in the presence of greatness."

"But...Is- Is that...okay? I mean...to go as a victim of a serial killer."

"Pfft. Of course! It is a Halloween Party after all. Besides, you're Marilyn Monroe right now and she had such a tragic end. Hell, I think I saw one guy show up as Charles Manson."

"I guess so. But...these murders happened here and they are really recent."

"C'mon," Elizabeth pouts and clasps her hands together, making a whimpering sound. "Everyone will forget about that guy spilling punch all over your costume and we'd be the talk of the party. No! In fact, every guy and girl and whatever schools they go to! You'll be badass for it."

Molly rolls her eyes but laughs a little despite herself due to Elizabeth's exuberance. "Okay, okay...but...what about the third girl? Casey Cooke?"

Elizabeth nose scrunches up, pondering. "Well, she was the sole survivor so...I dunno? Whose actually worthy here to be _her_ , y'know? She's a badass. What I do know is that I wished she'd do an interview one of these days! I'm _dying_ to know more about The Horde, not just Kevin, y'know what I mean."

"Ah...no, not really," Molly laughs nervously.

"You're too sweet."

"Do you really believe in what they do?" Molly asks lowly. "That people who suffer are the next stage of evolution?"

"His therapist believed the same," Elizabeth excitedly says, "besides, it's better sometimes than believing the alternative."

"Which is?"

"That the broken are just that- broken. I dunno, like we're not meant to be anything else. Born to suffer and pessimistic shit like that."

Molly frowns. "We?"

Ignoring her inquiry, Elizabeth perks up. "C'mon and let's go get you changed, we can go behind the speakers."

After shooing the couple who was in the middle of getting to third base behind the speaker - in the middle of a Kanye West song of all things - Elizabeth makes sure to triple check before Molly feels comfortable changing.

Elizabeth turns around at Molly's signal and she digs in her purse for some make-up remover for the blue eyeshadow and red lips. Elizabeth was a stickler for details, and under the bright light of her phone reapplied the appropriate make-up Claire was wearing on her tragic last day. Elizabeth tousles Molly's hair a bit and digs out some hair spray to give it a little volume and steps back.

"Perfect," Elizabeth grins, doing a once-over.

Now they walk out as a duo, their combined outfits getting a lot more recognition and Elizabeth soaks it up.

"Enjoy it," Elizabeth says with the tilt of her chin. "Nothing wrong with being strange for a new kind of change."

"I don't think that's how that saying goes."

Elizabeth ignores her to continue ranting. "Everyone talks shit about The Horde. All of these little trust fund babies with their brand new cars and name brand shit and their perfect relationships...they look away because they're scared. Are you scared?"

"No," Molly says determinedly, more to herself than Elizabeth.

"Good." Elizabeth nods. "A little shock theatrics never hurt anybody." She rounds on Molly and before the girl knows what's happening she's got half of Marcia's fake blood and intestines smeared on her sweater and bare stomach. "Much better than punch though, no?" she winks.

Elizabeth gets Molly drink after drink despite the girl's initial hesitation.

One of the hosts of this bonfire hops up on the smallest speaker, microphone in hand. The speakers squeal and whine as he starts to speak into it, getting everybody's attention. The guy taps on it a few times and clears his throat, doing a quick mic check while his buddies begin to move everyone around the bonfire.

"How's everyone doing tonight on hallow's eve?" the host asks.

Collective whoops and cheering answer in response, rows of red cups and phones and cigarette buds being brought into the air.

The host grins and nods encouragingly, waving his hands up and down causing the crowd to become rowdier. "As most of you may know, my name is Mark." More whoops and cheering before the crowd quiets down again. "And me and my buddies here," he points below him at several guys near the speakers, "decided that this Halloween party should be bigger, better, louder, and most of all..." he leans forward, dropping his voice to a low growl, " _creepier_."

The crowd goes crazy again. Elizabeth watches from the front corner of the crowd in a bored manner, having heard millions of speeches like this before from every ex-boyfriend whose dragged her to one of these. Molly looks equally non-transfixed by it.

Mark paces back and forth on the speaker. "And you're probably wondering...hey, Mark...what's so scary about the woods? Most of us grew up here, you're not trying nowhere near hard enough."

Elizabeth rolls her eyes with a great sigh.

"Well, what's so scary this time ladies and gents is that we have a teen eating cannibal roaming around here in these parts!" his accent takes on a country twang earning his laughter from the crowd.

Immediately at the sudden topic of The Beast, Elizabeth perks up interestedly. Even Molly straightens up, gaze now settling only on Mark.

"We're not afraid of The Horde!" someone in the crowd shouts.

Mark points a finger at said shouter with a faux serious expression. "You should be! And any unworthy teenager caught alone in the dark vulnerable for the taking!"

A girl somewhere screams and the crowd falls to a hush until someone laughs and she curses him heatedly.

But no one in the crown is laughing or joking or cheering now, an uneasiness coming over them in waves as they look around the dark of the woods. Even Elizabeth shivers, a mixture of excitement and fear as her heart begins to pound and her knees wobble slightly just at the thought of being in their presence.

"Don't wander too far out there tonight kiddos," Mark says in a convincing somber tone, "or, you too, will be sacrificed to The Horde's god- make no mistake, The Beast is real, and he's looking for his next meal." Mark cackles ominously and the music starts playing again.

Grabbing Molly's hand, Elizabeth leads them over to the drink table. "I am too sober for this," she mumbles.

 

#

 

A couple hours pass by in an intoxicated, sweaty blur colors and words and smells until the crowd begins to thin a little under the high rise of the full moon.

The last of the group soon dwindling down to fifteen as most people either head to their cars or the privacy of the woods for some alone time with whoever they've been sucking face with.

Elizabeth dawdles over to the bonfire with Molly, pouting as the last few stragglers began taking down the  system and moving it into their truck. She recognizes most of the faces settling around the fire- Rob and Mark and Fiona and Ray who once ran in her inner circle at one point in various times.

The truck's headlights glare to life and they soon rollout to.

Elizabeth pulls her cell phone out and pulls up her most listened to playlists and taps the first [song](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=umTxbuW4jcc). The beginning the steady clicking as a camera rolls, the heavy bass strum laying over the a soft and eerie whine in the background, until the seductive, raspy threat of the singer enters the scene.

_'I wanna fuck you like a foreign film with no subtitles to get you through this...'_

Rob pulls out his phone and begins recording her as she sing along, smiling.

_"Line up, roll camera, you pretend, I'll pretend and...'_

Elizabeth hops up clumsily on a log and wiggles her stomach with a laugh as her fake intestines swing around.

_'Cut, cut, cut, cut...'_

The guitars join in, electrifying and lazily, taking its time teasingly as Elizabeth sways her hips to the dark flow of the music, stomps her feet to the beat.

She tries to get Molly to join in but she furiously shakes her head, blushing.

"We should sacrifice Claire and Marcia to The Beast," Mark says over the song, gaze moving over to Molly as he continues recording.

Elizabeth snorts and takes another pull from her beer. "As long as whoever's playing The Beast promises to bite back hard." She blinks slowly, mascara heavy lids sticking to her cheeks a second too long, head rolling back to look at the moon.

_'There's so much, much, much more skin to break...I haven't even taken off my gloves'_

"Not funny," Fiona shivers. "Those costumes are freaking me out."

"You're not the only one," Rob says as he wriggles out of his panda suit, finally having enough of the humid air.

The stifling heat of the fire and her drunken state finally gets to her and Elizabeth stumbles over to plop beside Molly.

"Your girl is wasted," Ray chuckles.

" _Not_. His girl," Elizabeth mutters, head lolling on Molly's shoulder. "M'no one's girl anymore..."

Mark pouts, pulling down his features exaggeratedly. "Don't be like that, babe."

"Are...are you broken?" she hiccups, pointing the mouth of her bottle to Mark, spilling half of it on her shoe and the ground. "You're not worthy of _me_ ," Elizabeth slurs, laughing a little to herself. "You're just between bubble headed cheerleaders, little man."

Ray laughs and Mark stuffs his phone in his pocket with a huff, a sneer across his face. "And _you_...are a little freak who probably fantasizes about getting the same treatment as that girl you're dressed up as.."

An awkward silence falls across the bonfire, Molly the only one not privy to Elizabeth's past frowns.

" _Fuck you_ ," Elizabeth spits harshly, however the venom in her tone not as pointed because of her drunken state.

It doesn't stop Molly from tensing.

"No, fuck you. And fuck The Horde or The Beast and whatever your sick little fascination is with the guy."

Molly zones out as the two not-lovers argue heatedly while their friends attempt to calm the situation. She always freezes when someone starts yelling, becoming highly upset if she couldn't remove herself mentally or physically from the situation. A reaction that had started with her now estranged father. He yelled a lot- among with far more more ugly, disturbing behavior.

Her eyesight settles on the towering, unmoving trees. Still and quiet despite the unwanted guests' activities. A sense of anticipatory dread fills her and makes her feel that much heavier. She blames it on the alcohol as she wraps her arms around herself, shivering when she sees something - or rather someone standing on the edge of darkness.

Molly rubs at her eyes roughly and squints into the darkness again, heart picking up, a terrified staccato that makes it hard to breathe. Like her heart is swelling so large it presses against her rib cage, puncturing the organ and filling her up from head to toe with the blood that's rushing in her ears. If it was just another stray party goer the person in question would have been came forward or said something. But he just stands there, watching. A bulky guy, shirtless, no hair from what she can see from where she sits.

Molly blinks and just like that he disappears.

"Guys," she says, strained and so low that it barely pushes against her pink lips. She follows the blur of bare skin moving behind the trees with a blurry, tearful vision and she chokes out a sob. "Guys!"

Elizabeth finally stops yelling and turns to her, frowning. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She catches everyone's attention now but Molly is past comprehensible words, too frightful to speak. So with a heavy arm, she raises a finger to the dark of the woods.

"Okay...this isn't funny," Fiona says.

Everyone turns to the empty spot. Ray stands and takes a couple of steps forward, Fiona and Rob move to huddle together.  Several others who were off to the side now come forward, peering into the dark of the woods.

"Is this a joke or something..." Mark scoffs. "Another Horde groupie? Where the hell did you find her, Liz?"

" _Shh_!" Elizabeth says over the beginning conversations starting up. "Shut _up_! Did you hear that?"

The group all fall silent then, on high alert as they slowly stand up and squint in the darkness.

A loud, resounding snap pulls startled gasps from the crowd.

"Screw this," one guy says and makes a run from the opposite direction Molly had pointed towards.

" _Adam_!" Mark hisses, "Adam get back here you coward!"

Molly licks her dry lips nervously, inching sideways to clutch Elizabeth's arm as she watches Adam disappear in the trees.

For a long stretch of silence all that can be heard are the heavy, frightful breathing of the nine teenagers left around the bonfire.

"Should we go?" Fiona speaks up, voice wobbling with trepidation. "Should someone go after-"

A scream pierces through her meek suggestion and the teen screams in response, all huddling closer together. Molly clasps her hands over her ears and grits her teeth at the terrible sound.

The scream tapers off into pained shouts, cries of help and pleading with whoever- or whatever- was out there.

Eventually, they completely stop.

"This is a joke," Mark says after a moment. "This has _got_ to be a _joke_ , right?" he looks to Elizabeth. " _Right_!?"

"How the hell should I know?" Elizabeth snaps.

"Because everyone knows you're the freak who would pull a stunt like this!" Mark yells. 

Fiona begins to cry in an ugly, high pitched whine.

Rob puts an arm around Fiona's shoulders, pushes up his glasses with his free hand. "Look, we all know this Beast figure is nothing but the media dressing up what was an unusual but eccentric guy. The Beast is no more real than big foot or werewolves so why don't we all just calm...the hell...down," he finishes with a glare.

Another snap has them all whipping their heads behind them with breakneck speed, stumbling away from the noise only to see Ray jogging towards them.

"Fake or not," Ray begins with a fearful shake of his head, "I'm getting the hell outta here."

The second the words leave his mouth does the next moment happen in slow, agonizing motion. The darkness shifts behind him into something different entirely, its outline tall and looming and as the light of the fire flickers. It shines on the monster, solidifying it in their terror stricken minds into something real- large and bloody.

The group stares in horror as the creature in the shape of a man stares back at them with huge, black eyes and wide, pink teeth, oozing red down its chin and onto its heaving chest, bulging with thick, blue veins. His breathing a low, rumbling growl as loud and intimidating as any bear lurking around these woods. And as quick as he appears and snatches Ray he is gone again, dragging the helpless boy back into the woods, his mouth opening in a silence scream and hands reaching out for help.

The sound of skin tearing and Ray's weak, pained whimpers...of bones snapping and crumbling...the wet, slick noise and heavy breathing, chomping and snarling and swallowing all send them into action.

This is real. The Beast is _real_.

A giddy, panicked feeling vibrates through Elizabeth's body and she vaguely wonders if this is what the first on scene to The Horde's first kill feels like.

They all go screaming into the night, clutching themselves and each other for safety as they head back the way they came from, moving off into smaller groups of two or three. Except-

"Where the hell are the signs!?" Mark cries, looking around frantically.

Elizabeth scans the trees in front of her, all bare of the bright, neon signs from  earlier.

"You cannot run from me!" The Beast's shouts echoes and rings off the trees, stirring up the sound of wings flapping from above, birds squawking in distress. "You cannot hide from your fates!"

Molly tugs on her arm and they're running again, away from Mark and the slightly further sounds of bloodcurdling shouts.

Elizabeth and Molly lose track of time. Of direction. Sounds. The light of the moon. Even of reason as they run around aimlessly, possibly in circles.

"Wait!" Elizabeth digs her heels , stopping them both.

Panting, Molly turns around and even  the dark she can make out her terrified face.

"What is it?" Molly asks. "Are you hurt?"

"No, but...why are we running? Why am I running?" she laughs somewhat madly.

"Gee, I dunno, so we don't get eaten alive!?"

"But I'm not like them! I'm not Marcia or Claire!" Elizabeth says with slow realization. "I'm broken..."

"You're drunk," Molly states flatly. 

Something bristles too close in the dark, startling them both.

"I don't want to be eaten alive, Elizabeth!" Molly shouts. "I don't know about you but I have plans tomorrow that doesn't involve being digested!"

Elizabeth doesn't get to reply to that as Molly goes down with a blow to the head.

The Beast's black eyes meet Elizabeth's, his red stained lips pulling up into a grin.  His gaze roams down her figure with a huff that can be mistaken for amusement.

Elizabeth begins to laugh herself, a long and stray chuckle, nervousness and madness and a sick glee.

The Beast steps forward, rolling his shoulders and crouching, ready to pounce. 

"Wait!" Elizabeth cries out, her body roughly coming into contact with the tree behind her, too busy on attempting to undo her scarf. That's how Casey survived, right? Her brokenness on display for The Beast to witness. Or that's what she'd read on one of tbe forums devoted to The Horde.

Except The Beast grabs her scarf and yanks it hard, almost playfully, like a lion playing with its food. The force of it throws her to the ground, knocking the breath out of her.

He falls to his knees with a loud thud, either unaware of unfazed by the pain. It rips her fake intestines away, the super glue attaching them to her clothing and belly ripping loudly. Disappointment welling in her chest.

Not worthy it is.

Her breath hitches and she squirms around helplessly on the floor, staring up in awe at the embodiment of fear  resigned calmness- that or she's just numb.

The Beast leans over her, his breath tickling her stomach which rises and falls increasingly slow until she stops breathing altogether. 

"Make it fast, yeah?" she quietly asks in a surprisingly sober state.

bites into her stomach and blood fills his mouth, overflows the soft concave of her belly and wets his cheeks and ears. Elizabeth's back arches off the ground with a choked inhale, feeling the pressure of each tooth as it sinks in, the rough texture of his tongue lapping up the bloody bite marks. And then he bites harder.

Elizabeth stifles the grunt of pleasure crawling up her throat, rubs her thighs together as her body tingles in a familiar mixture of pleasure and pain.

She squeezes her eyes shut, teeth biting into her tongue as another groan gets stuck in her throat. She rolls her head to Molly whose still unconscious on the floor, hoping at least she won't be awake for this, that the pain for her will end soon. That her last thoughts would be focusing on sitting in The Beast's stomach next to some douchebag like Mark.

She'd always had a morbid obsession the moment she's heard of The Horde's beliefs. Was she worthy? She'd wanted to see if she was worthy after all the shit she's been through in her short, hellish years. A sort of fuck you to everyone whose ever said she'd brought all her problems down upon herself with bad choices. Guess she's got her answer.

However, being devoured by him was possibly the next best thing. If she couldn't be accepted might as well go down as one of his victims, right? Forever remembered as a devotee the end, her username _BeastMode_  forever remembered in the most obscure parts of The Horde's online fandom. 

Then, something odd happens.

When The Beast bites into her again, jerking his head and tightening his jaw as he opens her up the blood oozes slower out of her. Her pain recedes, slowly but surely. And The Beast draws back, head ducked low and out of sight from her blurry vision.

Her stomach jumps as she feels just the barest hint of his fingers glide over her mangled body. Bloody, raised flesh sliding down her sides like a snake shedding its skin to regrow something shiny and new.

"You are pure!" The Beast howls joyously.

Elizabeth's head drops back down to the ground and she sobs out in relief. "I knew it!" she cries, laughing breathlessly- out of drunkenness and shouts. "Screw you, Mark!" she breathes out before proceeding to pass out.

 

#

 

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth? Wake up. _Please_."

Elizabeth groans. Her head is throbbing, her mouth stale and teeth aching, and it feels like she's been sawed in half. Sharp pains stab at her stomach in protest as she begins to sit up, the creak and groan of a bed under her alarming her further. She opens eyes halfway, noticing Molly's blonde red nose and quivering lips.

"Where are we?" Elizabeth croaks, leaning back against a bumpy, hard surface.

"I don't know," Molly says in a hush tone. "But I think I heard Fiona screaming somewhere not too long ago. Doors keep opening and closing but no one's come in here for us yet."

"Great..."

"Happy Halloween."

"It's not even Halloween!" Molly squeaks before dissolving into tears.

 


End file.
